


Gym Encounters

by ilikeyouxactually



Series: Strung Together By Fate (A collection of Coliver works) [21]
Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Connor being a tease without knowing it, First Meeting, Gym, M/M, Oliver gets distracted by Connor, nothing new
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 13:07:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19085674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilikeyouxactually/pseuds/ilikeyouxactually
Summary: In which Oliver decides to start going to the gym, only to get distracted by a very attractive stranger.





	Gym Encounters

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick drabble I thought of this morning on my drive into work. Please enjoy, and feel free to follow me on tumblr @ ilikeyouxactually and send me some more Coliver prompts. <3

 

 

    There weren’t many things in this world that Oliver Hampton hated. Dirty dishes, large crowds, and arrogance were typically at the top of his list. But as of late, he developed a new-foud hatred—for the gym.

    Yup, the gym.

    Oliver didn’t consider himself overweight or fat by any means. He didn’t even really think he _needed_  to lose any weight. Having just turned twenty-seven, he couldn’t help but embrace the thought that he should probably start getting into better shape to maintain his good health.

    The only problem was that it seemed near impossible to make time for the gym. Well, to make time to go to the gym when there would be the least amount of people there. Yeah, he might have been a little insecure and wasn’t fond of the thought that people might spectate as he worked out.

    Going to the gym first thing in the morning? Out of the question. Oliver was not a morning person. Never had been. There was no way in hell he was going to wake up earlier just to work out and get sweaty before having to go to work. Going immediately after work? Definitely not. That’s when it would be the busiest. 

    So that’s how Oliver found himself making his way to the gym down the street from his apartment at 9:30 P.M.The choice to go later in the evening was an easy one to make. At this time, next to no one would even be at the gym. No one goes to the gym late. People would most likely be sleeping, getting ready for work the next day. Lucky for Oliver, he never really needed to get much sleep—plus, he typically laid in bed wide-awake, unable to rest. A good work out this late will undoubtedly make him tired enough to sleep.

    Making his way through the gym doors, his body instantly eased with a sigh of relief. Just as he expected, there was hardly anyone. The only other occupants consisted of a woman on a treadmill in the corner, and a older man on a bicycle. Oliver brushed a hand at his basketball shorts, smoothing them out as he glided over to the front desk. The girl behind the counter offered Oliver a quick greeting before scanning his membership badge. 

    _Should probably start with a few stretches_ , Oliver thought, heading towards the matted area. Spreading his legs apart, Oliver reached towards his left foot, then his right, then straight to the floor, a “hmph” escaping his lips. Stretching actually felt really good on his back. Sitting all day at his office job was starting to do a number on his lower back. He continued his workout prep with a few more positions, feeling his muscles already getting warm from the extra attention and work. Oliver found himself on the floor, laying on his back. A leg stretched over to one side, attempting to work out some tension at the base of his back. 

    Suddenly, the sound of the bell at the entrance door rang through—indicating someone else was coming in. Oliver tried to ignore the noise, shifting himself so his opposite leg stretched over his body. As he brought his leg over, the ground beneath him thumped. His head shot up, eyes fixated on the figure walking past him. A younger man in black basketball shorts and a fitting white tee was trudging past, sauntering over to the weights. Oliver shrugged, hopping up from the floor, he decided he would start on the treadmill.

    It felt a little weird being on the gym equipment. Oliver hadn’t been to an actual gym probably since college. Even back then, he wasn’t very fond of it.

    _Oh well._

    Selecting a basic beginner work out, Oliver started up the machine. It began slow, with a slight incline. Glancing upwards, the man that had just walked by was situating a few feet away. The other man stood in front of a mirror as he did different sets of weight lifts—watching himself intently. Oliver pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, feeling them slowly creeping downward. He continued on, the machine kicking into the next sequence, now going at a power-walk pace, incline slowly increasing. Thumps in his chest began getting harder, breaths turning more shallow. 

    _Definitely out of shape._

    Oliver kept his head down, focusing on each step. Left, right, left, right, left, right. A low grunt rang through the room, causing Oliver to jump slightly. His head shot up in the direction of the sound, eyes locking once again on the man in front of him. He had just dropped a set of weights at his feet. The man snatched his water bottle, squirting liquid into his mouth before tossing the backwards baseball cap from his head and sending it to the ground. Oliver couldn’t help but gulp. Sweaty, black locks of matted hair fell over the man’s face. He wanted to run his fingers through that hair.

    The man resumed his spot in front of the mirror, preparing to lift the weight again. Bending into a squat, Oliver shamelessly scanned his form, the way those black shorts clung to his ass—that perfect looking ass. A hard lump formed in Oliver’s throat as he suddenly became uncomfortably aware of how sweaty he was getting. Stretching up from the squat, slowly lifting the weight, the stranger straightened, lifting the weight over his head and then plopping it to the floor once more. His biceps flexed and strained with each movement, Oliver couldn’t tear his eyes away. The treadmill kicked into the next setting, continuing at a steeper incline but speed remaining the same. 

    In front of him, the younger man focused on the mirror. Their eyes locked for a brief moment, making Oliver’s breath hitch, quickly tearing away his gaze. A cocky smile splayed on the younger’s face, preparing for another lift. 

    _Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look_ , Oliver pleaded himself, _just focus on what you’re doing before you make a fool of yourself_. Not a moment later, Oliver found himself returning his gaze back to the tantalizing younger man—he just couldn’t keep his eyes off him. The way he moved, muscles flexing, tight shirt showing off the contours of his chest perfectly. Leaving very little to the imagination. Lifting the weight up and behind his head, the man slowly stretched upward, ass sticking out as he stood. The curves of his ass clearly tight in his shorts—stretching them in the most ungodly way. It made Oliver’s mouth water. He looked perfect. Oliver wondered what he tasted like.

    Before he could even register what was happening, Oliver missed a beat in his step, stumbling forward before rolling off the treadmill and collapsing to the floor. Blinking hard several times, he finally swallowed that lump in his throat.

    _You did not just fall off the treadmill, Oliver Hampton_ , he scolded, sinking into the floor with utter embarrassment.

    “Hey, you okay?” A husky voice came from the side, making Oliver jump. The hot stranger was suddenly right beside Oliver.

    _When did he get there??_

    “Uhh—” Stammer. Unable to speak because now Oliver had a close up of the younger. Red puffy lips teased him further. 

    “Are you okay, dude? You hit the floor pretty hard,” the other offered, concern spread over the stranger’s face.

    “Uh, yeah—‘m fine...” Oliver trailed off, stammering to his feet as quick as possible. Nervous hands brushed at his shorts, attempting to regain composure—and dignity. _Get it together, Oliver_. Eyes darted away, embarrassed to look at the man after having just tripped from the distraction.

    “Good to hear. I’m Connor by the way,” a devilish smirk splayed on Connor’s face.

    “Oliver,” he returned, offering a weak smile. His eyes fluttered back to Connor, glancing over his body. Outlines of sweat showed through Connor’s form-fitting shirt. His face was painted a pretty rosy pink.

    Connor beamed at him, raising a sly eyebrow.

    “Well Oliver. If I may—if you’re going to ogle my ass like that, at least ask me to dinner.” 

    


End file.
